Floyd had killed countless animals throughout his life. Survival of the fittest is a cut-throat competition, but in the wild a man cannot afford to have too great a conscience, less he would rather perish. Floyd mastered the art of setting traps on the land surrounding the house he shared with his twin sister. For the most part, all that Floyd captured was small game, raccoon and rabbits, or other small mammals. Deer were common, but not nearly as stupid. Floyd set lines up at the lake shore in the morning and returned to them in the afternoon to collect his catch and also to re-bait the line. He wasn’t much of a chef, so when he returned home with the fresh carcasses, which he cleaned himself, his sister was more than happy cook the prize of the day. Floyd had killed countless animals throughout his life, but until today, he had never killed a man.
Floyd revealed the gun to his friends and nodded to them to flee during a brief moment when Jared’s back was turned. Jared’s’ attention was focused on the approaching pack of vicious looking wild dogs that were charging in the direction of the group.Saul, Eliza, and Lawrence ran and as soon as they had turned their backs, Floyd did the rough man in and left him for the dogs. The point blank shot to Jared’s temple from the9mm echoed between Floyds’ ears and bounced within the cavity of his skull from wall to wall.
Floyd couldn’t take his eyes off of the dead man as he ran to join his friends. The body that was Jared wasn’t so much standing, as it was slinked against the still rumblinghalf-track. The dogs were upon the body and dropped it to the knees where it then collapsed forward, in what could be viewed as a position of prayer. The piercing, savage, barks ceased as human blood and canine saliva jelled into a substance that could probably fetch a good price at the market as long is at were labeled properly by the word “soup”. People didn’t ask too many questions about their food these days.
Eliza, Saul, and Lawrence ran from the truck under the protection of an old parking garage across from Who Foods. Eliza yelled for Floyd to hurry, but her calls were unheard as the ringing in his ears had yet to cease. Saul made an attempt to run back to Floyd, with the hope of pulling him along, but Lawrence held Saul down, safely behind cover.
“The dogs will tear him apart,” said Saul.
“No,” said Lawrence, “I don’t think we have to worry about the dogs.”
Saul was convinced enough to stay, but not enough to believe Lawrence’s assurance, which was lessened as the merchant aimed his gun behind Floyd, with his sight on the dogs.
“Hurry Floyd!” Eliza continued to yell encouragements, still not realizing that Floyd couldn’t hear her plea.
The smoke from the half-track billowed out from the engine as the vehicle continued to tremble. Floyd’s eyes were magnetized to the eyes of Jared, which were becoming increasingly misshaped as one of the dogs bit into the excess fat of the man’s generous cheek. The dogs paid little attention to the smoke that was filling their lungs other than to momentarily lift their head and sniff the air. They returned to their feast, having sensed no immediate danger from the smell of burning fuel. The trap had been set more perfectly than Floyd could have planned. “So much for carrying rope,” he thought.
As the dogs gnawed on the flesh of Jared’s limbs and organs, Floyd forced himself to think on the trouble Jared had caused them and the trouble he was bound to yet stir in order to avoid feelings of guilt. The possibility that he had saved his friends from a future setup was his only relief in having taken a human life, and in such a violent manner.
Speaking of violence, the half-track began to shake even more chaotically. The leader of the dog pack had more sense than the others and began to drag the corpse away from its current location at the driver’s side door. The other dogs didn’t agree with this move, as they seemed to think the lead dog wanted the meal all for itself. The leader was insistent, Floyd even heard it whimper and whinny. Torn between the danger it sensed and the respect of the pact. The five other dogs maintained their feast, holding the body to the ground with their paws and teeth, as the lead dog began to howl and shake its’ tail with swift and rapid movement. There could be heard two mechanical clicks from the half-track, and then, for a moment, everything was silent. The dogs paused from their meal and lifted their heads in anticipation.
KABOOM!
They say the toughest men don’t look at the chaos they’ve left in their wake. Floyd didn’t know anything about that though and watched as it happened. Gooey, pink flesh of man dripped from flying canine jaws as thunder shook the street.
The flash was blinding and the explosion deafening. Flaming debris of the limbs of man, machine, and dog were launched in all directions. Floyd was hit in the face by the hind leg of a dog. As the meaty haunch smacked his cheek and the smell of burnt blood filled his noise, he no longer thought of Jared. All he could think about was that lead dog who knew something was up, who knew that he was in the midst of a battle for survival, torn between living another day and the immediate relief of respect and a fresh meal. Floyd couldn’t help but feel sorry for that dog and out of the all casualties, man, machine, and canine, Floyd was only able to emphasize with the pack leader, the only one among the dead who had any common sense and died a loyal death.
Floyd had killed countless animals throughout his life. Survival of the fittest is a cut-throat competition, but in the wild a man cannot afford to have too great a conscience, less he would rather perish. Floyd mastered the art of setting traps on the land surrounding the house he shared with his twin sister. For the most part, all that Floyd captured was small game, raccoon and rabbits, or other small mammals. Deer were common, but not nearly as stupid. Floyd set lines up at the lake shore in the morning and returned to them in the afternoon to collect his catch and also to re-bait the line. He wasn’t much of a chef, so when he returned home with the fresh carcasses, which he cleaned himself, his sister was more than happy cook the prize of the day. Floyd had killed countless animals throughout his life, but until today, he had never killed a man.
Floyd revealed the gun to his friends and nodded to them to flee during a brief moment when Jared’s back was turned. Jared’s’ attention was focused on the approaching pack of vicious looking wild dogs that were charging in the direction of the group. Saul, Eliza, and Lawrence ran and as soon as they had turned their backs, Floyd did the rough man in and left him for the dogs. The point blank shot to Jared’s temple from the 9mm echoed between Floyds’ ears and bounced within the cavity of his skull from wall to wall.
Floyd couldn’t take his eyes off of the dead man as he ran to join his friends. The body that was Jared wasn’t so much standing, as it was slinked against the still rumbling half-track. The dogs were upon the body and dropped it to the knees where it then collapsed forward, in what could be viewed as a position of prayer. The piercing, savage, barks ceased as human blood and canine saliva jelled into a substance that could probably fetch a good price at the market as long is at were labeled properly by the word “soup”. People didn’t ask too many questions about their food these days.
Eliza, Saul, and Lawrence ran from the truck under the protection of an old parking garage across from Who Foods. Eliza yelled for Floyd to hurry, but her calls were unheard as the ringing in his ears had yet to cease. Saul made an attempt to run back to Floyd, with the hope of pulling him along, but Lawrence held Saul down, safely behind cover.
“The dogs will tear him apart,” said Saul.
“No,” said Lawrence, “I don’t think we have to worry about the dogs.”
Saul was convinced enough to stay, but not enough to believe Lawrence’s assurance, which was lessened as the merchant aimed his gun behind Floyd, with his sight on the dogs.
“Hurry Floyd!” Eliza continued to yell encouragements, still not realizing that Floyd couldn’t hear her plea.
The smoke from the half-track billowed out from the engine as the vehicle continued to tremble. Floyd’s eyes were magnetized to the eyes of Jared, which were becoming increasingly misshaped as one of the dogs bit into the excess fat of the man’s generous cheek. The dogs paid little attention to the smoke that was filling their lungs other than to momentarily lift their head and sniff the air. They returned to their feast, having sensed no immediate danger from the smell of burning fuel. The trap had been set more perfectly than Floyd could have planned. “So much for carrying rope,” he thought.
As the dogs gnawed on the flesh of Jared’s limbs and organs, Floyd forced himself to think on the trouble Jared had caused them and the trouble he was bound to yet stir in order to avoid feelings of guilt. The possibility that he had saved his friends from a future setup was his only relief in having taken a human life, and in such a violent manner.
Speaking of violence, the half-track began to shake even more chaotically. The leader of the dog pack had more sense than the others and began to drag the corpse away from its current location at the driver’s side door. The other dogs didn’t agree with this move, as they seemed to think the lead dog wanted the meal all for itself. The leader was insistent, Floyd even heard it whimper and whinny. Torn between the danger it sensed and the respect of the pact. The five other dogs maintained their feast, holding the body to the ground with their paws and teeth, as the lead dog began to howl and shake its’ tail with swift and rapid movement. There could be heard two mechanical clicks from the half-track, and then, for a moment, everything was silent. The dogs paused from their meal and lifted their heads in anticipation.
KABOOM!
They say the toughest men don’t look at the chaos they’ve left in their wake. Floyd didn’t know anything about that though and watched as it happened. Gooey, pink flesh of man dripped from flying canine jaws as thunder shook the street.
The flash was blinding and the explosion deafening. Flaming debris of the limbs of man, machine, and dog were launched in all directions. Floyd was hit in the face by the hind leg of a dog. As the meaty haunch smacked his cheek and the smell of burnt blood filled his noise, he no longer thought of Jared. All he could think about was that lead dog who knew something was up, who knew that he was in the midst of a battle for survival, torn between living another day and the immediate relief of respect and a fresh meal. Floyd couldn’t help but feel sorry for that dog and out of the all casualties, man, machine, and canine, Floyd was only able to emphasize with the pack leader, the only one among the dead who had any common sense and died a loyal death.